


a man in uniform

by lavendre



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendre/pseuds/lavendre
Summary: "It's not about the hat," Matoba says. Except. Well. It is.
Relationships: Matoba Seiji/Natori Shuuichi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	a man in uniform

He’s ruined a number of nice clothes on his little expeditions, but tried and true there’s a few essentials in the wardrobe that can take a beating. The screenwriters for the little dramas he stars in aren’t always wrong -- the olive trench coat, the khaki bucket hat, the lithe brown shoes that definitely -- screw him -- _don’t_ have a kevlar insole enhance his work performance by ten-fold. Yeah. He knows how to dress for an occasion.  
  
But the gutted, now looking like a holiday streamer that is most definitely no longer on his head hat is completely unsalvageable.  
  
He peels it up off the ground; it’s still warm from the youkai’s mouth, the wet heat rapidly cooling.  
  
Oh no, he thinks miserably. Then perks. It’s machine washable. Flexible, forgiving synthetic. Except. Well. It’s a streamer.  
  
The hat seems to wilt in his hand.  
  
“Master,” Hiiragi says, coming out of the bushes. “It wasn’t a nice look.”  
  
He squints at her. Waits. She sheaths her katana.  
  
“...It was a close contest of strength. It was a small sacrifice.”  
  
“Yeah,” Natori says. “Nice work.” His mouth is dry.  
  
On the way out of the park he shoves it into the trash. He feels naked without it.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Your hat,” Matoba says, frowning at him. Well. His face hasn’t changed, but he _looks_ at the rest of Natori’s body, like there might be other missing pieces.  
  
He’s flustered enough he gets tangled in the seat belt.  
  
“My hat,” Natori agrees, fumbles, click. “You noticed?” As if his hair didn’t get shiny and gold standing out on the curb in the sun, waiting to be whisked away into the back seat and interrogated (read: terrorized) about the events of the day.  
  
“You don’t go on assignments without it.”  
  
Natori pretends he hasn’t heard the suspicion. He greets the driver, who’s unmoved by the entire conversation.  
  
“You wore that hat,” Matoba muses, “to every one of my parties.”  
  
“Out of spite,” Natori offers. “I kept extra shikigami up there. Couldn’t blind people with my beauty, either.”  
  
“Like a little boy who keeps money in his shoes.”  
  
Natori sighs and cracks the window to annoy him, not smiling at all when the wind whips black hair right into his open mouth.  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“That hat was in my suitcase on that trip in June. I was annoyed that you’d put it in there.”  
  
Natori nuzzled into his neck. “Just to make you miss me. Since you never call.”  
  
“The broad rim kept the sun off,” he mused.  
  
The collar of his shirt is a little stretchy. Natori mouths into the newly found space. “You’ve given me nothing but shit over it for years.”  
  
“It was ugly.”  
  
He inhaled sharply through his nose before blowing a large raspberry against the column of his throat. Matoba rolled him off, sat up, irritated. “It was ugly,” he says again, scowling.  
  
“I’ll get another,” Natori says, fingers fisting against the soft cotton.  
  
Matoba cradled the back of his head, pads of his fingers stroking to the base of his skull.  
  
“It’s not about the hat,” Matoba says, eyes narrowed and dark in his face. Except. Well.  
  
Natori swallows. Definitely not.

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think the bucket hat has been around since the beginning of natori's exorcist career... and other things


End file.
